


Cast Off

by ElectraRhodes



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Canon, I Know suprising isn’t it, Knitting, M/M, Not A/B/O Knotting Spelled Badly, Season 2, not an au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 16:13:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15933971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElectraRhodes/pseuds/ElectraRhodes
Summary: Set during season 2.. an unreliable narrator, a fucked up chronology, and some lovely knitting.





	Cast Off

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sunnylit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunnylit/gifts).



> For a great twitter prompt which I have proceeded to drop stitches in..

6.

She watches idly from the doorway of the dining room as Hannibal escorts Will to the front door. What ever else is going on she is the one who gets to stay.

She doesn’t listen in to whatever it is that Hannibal and Will are murmuring to each other.

What does give her pause is when Will pulls on his long dark wool overcoat, nicer than anything she ever sees him wear usually, and then winds a warm knitted scarf round his neck. Hannibal doesn’t reach out to smooth it down or anything so crass. He doesn’t touch him at all. Just opens and then closes the door after him quietly.

But. BUT.

She knows that scarf. Intimately. She knows it because she damn well knitted it.

 

3.

“You are cold.”

“I’m fine.”

“Did you come out without a coat or anything equal to the weather?”

“I said I’m fine.”

Will sighs as Hannibal pulls open the cupboard in the hallway and hands him an upscale store carrier bag. He looks inside and pulls out the coat in a subtle grey twill from inside. He unfolds it and holds it up, shakes it out by the shoulders.

“I can’t.”

“I think you’ll find you can.”

He pulls it on and realises that Hannibal has already removed the tags. As he smooths it on Hannibal steers him carefully by the shoulders to the hallway mirror. Neither of them say anything.

Will lifts his face to look at Hannibal’s reflection. Sees the small crease of a frown between his eyes.

“Not quite right? Something missing? Not the right impression?”

Hannibal opens the cupboard door even wider. He surveys the contents and eventually pulls out a long, finely knitted scarf. He turns back to Will and flicks it round his neck, crosses it in front and then does up the buttons of the coat over it. He nods his head briefly.

Will checks his reflection in the mirror. He can see the scarf is a nice finishing touch. 

“All right then.”

 

4.

She frowns a little. As she walks back to the car she shoves the gun into her purse, and regrets everything she ever thought she knew about Will Graham.

Damn.

 

2.

He smiles at her with just the slightest query on his face.

“It is not my birthday. Or have I missed some other anniversary?”

They exchange the most modest of conspiratorial looks. She shakes her head a little. 

“I thought I’d make you something. Not a big deal. I had the yarn already.”

He takes the paper wrapped parcel and sets it on his knee, then pats the seat beside him. She sits and leans against him as he carefully undoes the paper. Inside there is a scarf. Hand knitted by the looks of it. The colours ripple, grey, a subtle smoke, maybe a hint of something more, purple perhaps. He leans over and kisses her briefly on the cheek.

“It’s beautiful.”

1.

She watches the side door of the office, waiting for Will to come out. In theory she and Hannibal have dinner reservations later, and yes, she’s a little early, but she can wait. In her little hybrid the small driver’s light is on and she deliberately parked under a street lamp in order to be able to see. In her hands are a pair of knitting needles and three strands of yarn she is working together in an even three by three rib. Just a scarf. Something that’s easy to pick up and put down. Something she might very well give to Hannibal. Now that, maybe.. she hears the office door slam and watches Will walk down the steps, stop at the bottom, hunch into his inadequate jacket and then cross the road angling away from her.

She sets the knitting aside.

5.

Hannibal opens the door to the the waiting room. And Will? Will turns on his heel and doesn’t quite smile at him. Hardly gives him his eyes at all. But he’s ironed his shirt. And his hair has been cut. And. And.

And.

Hannibal steps back to admit him, and then follows him into the office. Will lifts his chin, exposing the long line of his neck. Unadorned. Hannibal watches him swallow. He lays the coat that Hannibal gave him across the seat of the small blue sofa and turns again. Towards Hannibal.

“I have to deal with you. And my feelings about you.”

Hannibal nods, lifts his chin a little, asks.

“How will you take your life back?”

Will eases into one of the chairs, now set a whole carpet widths away from its mirror image.

“I’d like to resume my therapy.”

Hannibal sits, crosses his legs and then steeples his fingers across his knee.

“Where shall we begin.”

**Author's Note:**

> In the U.K. when you finish a piece of knitting you ‘cast off’ all the stitches.. I realise that elsewhere this is called ‘binding off’.. but cast off is a better name for a story and has lots of lovely double meanings.


End file.
